Change Of Hart
by Marian.Locksley
Summary: Ianto is sick of Jack ignoring him, and treating him like a pet, he needs something more. Then John comes along and things change. Sorry slight Jack bashing, I am annoyed at him.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: I have been re-watching series 2 and CoE and I have decided that the way Jack treats Ianto is pretty terrible. I mean he pretty much uses him, and it annoys me, don't get me wrong, I love them together, but Jack is pretty horrible to Ianto sometimes. So I wrote this to vent my annoyance (Jack isn't the villain, he is just Jack), also I had a dream along these lines – don't ask. _

…

The bed squeaked as Ianto stood up and in the dim light from the office above he could see Jack shift to look at him.

"I should go home." Ianto muttered, reaching down to retrieve his clothes from the floor.

"Ok" Jack nodded, not in agreement but in consent. Then he turned back to the wall and pulled the blanket over his bare shoulders.

Ianto stood looking at the American for a minute or two, then shook himself. He hadn't really expected anything else but that didn't make the rejection hurt any less.

"I'll, um, see you tomorrow then…" He trailed off, half hoping Jack would change his mind and ask him to stay – he didn't. So the young man climbed into Jack's office and made his way out of the Hub.

…

As he crossed the plass Ianto could feel a familiar burning behind his eyes. I won't cry, he thought, I won't! But he couldn't stop himself. He could pretend to everyone else – to Martha and Owen, hell he could even pretend to Jack, but he couldn't pretend himself.

He loved Jack, he really, really did. It had taken a long time to come to terms with the fact but finally he had; only problem was Jack didn't love him back. Oh he wanted him, there was no doubt about it, and he defiantly liked him, but he didn't love him. Sometimes Ianto felt more like a pet than a lover – constantly loyal and loving to a person who never quite returned his affection.

For so long he'd told himself to give it time, that Jack would learn to love him, but he was beginning to think that wouldn't happen. He'd really thought things were going to change, when Jack came back from his travels with The Doctor, when he'd asked him out on a date. But standing by The Bay, feeling then night air seep into him he realised nothing had.

Jack wasn't like him, he didn't want a steady relationship, to settle down (not that you could in Torchwood), in fact he didn't really want anything but sex, which would be fine except that Ianto wanted more. He wanted to be able to tell people about Jack, he wanted Jack to be proud of him, to love him. He wanted the impossible.

"Maybe I should let him go." He spoke to the silent bay "Maybe I should move on." But he knew he couldn't, not while he still loved Jack.

Fuck him, he thought. Fuck him with his he stupid coat and dazzling smile, fuck the way he smiles at Gwen even when he's with me. Fuck him!

"Fuck him!" He yelled into the sky. "Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him"

He couldn't stand he was crying so hard so he dropped to the hard stone ground and hugged his legs to his chest. He didn't hear anyone coming up behind him, didn't even know they were there until they spoke.

"Eyecandy!" He knew that voice. "Troubles in paradise?"

…

_End Note: So I'm guessing you all know who it is? Hope I got the feeling right, and I adore your reviews._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Thanks to all those wonderful people who favourited this story or put it on alert – I love you. This chapter is about coffee (among other things), hope you enjoy._

…

The coffee was bad, no, it was worse than bad – it was terrible – but for once Ianto didn't care. It was hot and comforting, and, more importantly it has been bought for him by someone as a genuine (or at least he hoped it was genuine and he wasn't being drugged) act of kindness.

He took another sip, grimacing at the taste and considered adding another sugar, but decided against it, it would still taste like dirty dish water. Instead he placed the mug on the table and turned to face the man sitting opposite him.

"John."

"Eye-candy." Ianto glared and John faltered "I mean, um, Ianto."

There was a slightly awkward silence, and then both men went to speak at once. John gestured for Ianto to continue and sat back in his chair to listen – an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have a whole long list of things I want to ask you, but the most important on at the moment is: how did you find me? I mean I get that you know where The Hub is and that you went to visit, but I wasn't at The Hub…and I didn't have my comms with me so there wouldn't have been any tracking signal, how did you get me?"

John grinned at him, a slightly predatory look in his eyes, one that Ianto had learned to associate with Jack.

"Eye-candy; Ianto" He hurriedly corrected himself. "I know Jack Harkness well, very well, possibly better than anyone – and definitely better than you. If I turn up at a place where I know Jack to be, just in time to see someone hurrying away, crying, then there's a pretty good chance I'm gonna follow."

"You followed me?"

"Yup; sorry, couldn't resist, I think it's something about the suit…" He trailed off under another of Ianto's furious glares.

"So you followed me, you heard what I said, and you what? You thought you'd just bring me here and buy me a drink?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"Why?" The young man sounded genuinely bewildered, as if the thought of someone doing something kind to him was totally preposterous.

"Because Ianto – contrary to popular belief I am not a heartless bastard – no, that title belongs to our dear friend the captain. I saw you were upset, and I had a pretty good idea why, I thought maybe you could use a hot drink. Although, to be honest, this coffee is absolutely disgusting!" He made a face and Ianto grinned, letting himself relax a little.

Chances were if John wanted him dead, he'd already have a hole in his brain, so maybe he was safe for the moment.

They paused again to sip some more of the vile coffee, this time John spoke.

"I believe it's my turn to ask a question." Ianto nodded, deciding it couldn't hurt – and if it did he didn't have to answer.

"Ok then – and you have no idea how long I have been sitting on this line – Hey handsome, would you like to see my spaceship?"

…

_End Note: I know you are out there, I saw the alerts…please, reviews equal love!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: I am sorry for not updating sooner, those of you who read my other stories will know I have a tendency to be a little sporadic in my updates – again sorry. I am not entirely happy with this chapter but it will have to do for now, my brain is busy doing college stuff and hoping my audition succeeded. Thank you to everyone who favourited, alerted and especially to those who reviewed – they keep me writing._

…

"It's erm…big." Ianto gazed in awe at the cavernous interior of Captain John Hart's spaceship.

John sniggered "I've heard that one before and more than once too."

Heat rushed to Ianto's cheeks and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "You're worse than Jack!" The moment they left his mouth Ianto wished he could take the words back.

A mixture of anger, love and despair filled him. His brain told him it was over, that he should let it go, that Jack was bad for him, but his heart told him to hang on. I'm addicted to him – the thought was like a ton of bricks to the head; he's got me hooked. I should give up, I want to give up, but I can't. Ianto shook his head angrily – Stupid, stupid boy, letting yourself get sucked in, stupid! He almost screamed in frustration but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Don't let him get to you, it's what he does, he gets inside your head and then you can't let him go." John's voice was steady but there was something close to anger behind his words. "You give him your heart and he throws it back in your face…I don't think he even means to, it's just how he works." The anger was gone, replaced my genuine regret "How he's always worked."

The words hung unnaturally in the air between them as both men realised just how true they were.

A broken sob sliced through the silence, then another and another, and, for the second time that night, Ianto was crying his heart out. What happened next was unexpected but not entirely surprising – John kissed him.

For a couple of seconds Ianto leaned into the kiss then his brain kicked in and he pushed John roughly away.

"Mmpf- no!"

The older man stumbled backwards, rubbing his arms.

"Well you 21st century guys have more balls than I gave you credit for." He seemed surprised "I guess I owe you an apology, that's a first, apologizing for kissing someone…" He trailed off, noting Ianto's expression, humiliation, but underneath that genuine hurt.

"I trusted you" the words shook "I thought 'maybe, maybe I should give him a chance' looks like I was wrong – again, I seem to be doing that a lot these days. If I wanted a quick shag, I would have stayed with Jack; at least I knew he wouldn't kill me afterwards."

"Ianto…" John was shocked by the bitterness and in the young man's voice – did he really think so little of him? "Sorry, I really am, I didn't mean to make you think that, I didn't even mean to kiss you really…it's just what I do, it's who I am."

John looked at his feet, the 21st century confused him, sometimes he thought he was beginning to understand but then he'd always go and put his foot in it.

"That's not an excuse John, Jack doesn't mean to ignore me, to treat me the way he does, it's just who he is – it doesn't make it ok." He turned away, realising for the first time that on this ship he was completely trapped, helpless.

"How can I show you that I am sorry, that I'm not like Jack?"

Ianto smiled, a sad smile, an old man's smile – it looked out of place on his youthful face. "You can't"

"Yes, I can – I have to, I'm sick of fucking everything up Ianto, my life and everyone else's I want to do something right for a change…" There was a long pause while John considered "Stay?"

"Excuse me?"

"Here, tonight"

Ianto looked at him in much the same way a child would look at a particularly revolting vegetable. "So you can prove that you're better then Jack? No, I don't think, so, I'm not a competition, I want to go home."

"But I want you to stay."

"Well then make me – I can't leave, you have me completely in your power."

John heard the disgust behind Ianto's words and realised two things: he honestly believed John would keep him there, and he was terrified.

"Ianto – I am not going to hold you here, you can go if you want, but I am asking you to give me a chance. Stay, just for a night, just until you know what you want to do…please?"

Ianto thought for a long moment, and then he looked up. "Alright."

"Really?"

"Yes really."

"You'll stay?"

"I'll stay."


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: This chapter is from Jack's POV, some of you wanted to know what his reaction would be. I should warn you know there are Gwack references, now I am no Gwack fan but it is hinted as a cannon and I thought it would be interesting to explore, I'm sorry if that offends anyone. Once again thank you to all the wonderful people who alerted or favourited this – I love you all, and hugs and kisses to those who reviewed._

…

Jack did notice Ianto was missing, of course he noticed, but he wasn't unduly worried. Sometimes the young man took the morning off and would turn up at lunchtime with supplies for The Hub and fresh coffee for the team. Jack could almost smell the roasting beans – Ianto's coffee: there was nothing like it anywhere else in the universe.

The morning was taken up with rouge weevil alerts – some of the creatures had attacked a pensioner just outside Newport and Tosh had sent Jack and Owen to clean it up while Gwen dealt with the witnesses. Usually dealing with the witnesses was Ianto's job and Jack felt a stab of annoyance at his absence – he liked having Gwen beside him.

When they returned to The Hub , two new weevils in tow, Jack wandered over to Tosh's desk.

"Any news from Ianto?" He tried to sound casual but some of his annoyance must have shown through and Tosh, mistaking it for worry turned to stare at him.

"No, should there be? Is something wrong?" Even looking at him the young Asian woman was almost hidden behind the stacks of paper on her desk but Jack could see the concern shining in her eyes.

"Of course not, just wondering was all. He must be picking up lunch on the way in; I'll give him a call, see where he is." He smiled brightly and turned away.

"Jack!" the call came from the greenhouse and he could see Gwen standing by the open door. "The purple and blue vine from whatsitcalled has gone all puffy again and I can't remember what to spray it with – can you help? I'd ask Owen but he's even more useless than I am and I can't find Ianto, is he ill?"

"No, I think he's just getting supplies – I'm coming to help right now." He strode towards the stairs, making a mental note to get Ianto to inform him next time he decided to take the morning off - what would happen if there was a major rift alert and they didn't know where he was?

"Right, now what seems to be the – oh…" He had been so absorbed in thinking about Ianto Jack had barely noticed where he was going and now he found himself pressed up against Gwen as they both stood in the entrance to the greenhouse.

Jack could feel the tension building between them – this had happened before, when they had been in the cells…it had been so close. He could feel her breath on his neck, those amazing green eyes of hers. She leaned forward –

"Beep!"

Jack almost jumped out of his skin and the moment was broken. Again his wrist strap beeped, incongruous to what it had interrupted.

"Beep, beep, beep." He smiled awkwardly at Gwen and squeezed past her into the room beyond.

Even before he pressed the button he knew who it would be, only one person still had the technology to contact him in this time.

"Jackie-boy! How are you? Keeping well I hope. Well actually I don't hope – I know – someone told me."

The familiar voice filtered through the tinny speakers and Gwen's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, I bet that surprised you, and you're little team too if they're watching, guess it surprised me as well, turned out for the best though…well for me that is. It's your own fault Jackie-boy, you should have treated him better, maybe then – well we'll never know will we? But I suppose you want to see him?"

The picture swung around to show a single bed with the figure of Ianto curled asleep in it, only face and hair visible above the covers. Jack growled low in his throat.

"Don't worry I haven't hurt your precious Eye-Candy, oops, I mean Ianto, in fact if anyone's hurt him it's you. He was crying about it when I found him, poor thing…but that's beside the point, the point is this: He is here, as good as trapped on my spaceship, and you have no way of finding him – don't bother trying to trace this message, I've scrambled it so well even darling Tosh won't find anything –"

Gwen let out a little squeak and Jack glared at the image with such ferocity that it seemed to flicker.

"As I was saying; he's trapped and there's nothing you can do about it, so if you ever want to see him again you are going to listen very carefully, and you are going to do exactly what I say."

…

_End Note: Well my friends; that are what we call an unintended plot twist. Here I feel I should explain myself – I honestly intended this to be a straight forward romantic fic – but my plot bunny (I shall name him Rupert after the bunny we adopted a few months ago then gave away) has taken control of this fic and decided that John would have an ulterior motive…there may still be romance, just maybe not in the way you expected, please don't let this stop you from reading, if anyone has any particular requests I am more than happy to see if I can incorporate them. As always, I love your feedback…shall we see if we can reach 50+ reviews?_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: I am so, so sorry for the massive wait. I am not used to three essays a week and a couple of nights of bad sleep have taken their toll. This chapter is not the most interesting I have ever written but I think it is needed in the story. As always I love an appreciate your reviews and thank you to anyone who put this on alert or favourited and hugs to all who reviewed – they really do make my day._

…

Ianto stretched and yawned. His back was sore and for some unknown reason he'd gone to bed in a pair of too small boxers covered in small green dinosaurs. It took his eyes a couple of minutes to adjust to his newly awoken state and his brain even longer to register the unfamiliar environment.

At first glance he appeared to be in the ambassadorial suite of a very expensive hotel; his bed was a giant double poster and the floor was covered in what appeared to be thick white carpet. Closer inspection however suggested that the room was designed by a slightly crazy nana who watched too many of the BBC's late night period drama's and who had never actually seen a hotel let alone a carpet and obviously never needed to sleep (the mattress was a close relation to cardboard).

"Oh!"

Almost unconsciously he had wandered over to the window beside the bed and pulled open the curtains. Instead of the grey Cardiff sky he had expected to greet him, thousands of luminous stars shone into his room from the blackness of space. The last night rushed back to the front of his mind and he took a step back.

He was on a spaceship. An actually real live space ship. In space. He was Torchwood, that's shouldn't be so exciting but…space!...with John. An actual real live space ship, in space, with an actual real live nutcase. That was his first revelation. The second was: that coffee last night was obviously drugged, and the third ran along the lines of: well at least the explains the boxer shorts.

The thought of boxer shorts lead him back to his near naked state and the realisation that, if this was indeed John's ship, there was probably several camera's recording him and he would do well to put some clothes on.

The wardrobe at least seemed to be made of some type of wood and someone – well it would have been John wouldn't it? – had hung his suit neatly on the rack. In the three years Jack had known him he had never once bothered to make sure Ianto's clothes were neat is he'd stayed in the Hub. Pulling down the hanging wire that served as coat hangers Ianto realised the coat had even been ironed, maybe there was a servant after all.

He debated whether or not to wait for John to some and find him, but, in the end, the call to explore was too string and he made his way cautiously out of the room.

The hallway outside continued that hotel theme although it was again floored with the curious carpet like substance that seemed buzz at every footstep. At the far end the hallway split into two and, on impulse, Ianto took the left hand fork. It lead him down a flight of stairs and into the large open-plan room he had been in the night before. Along one side ran a huge window with some kind of metal shutter drawn up to display the same view visible from his bedroom window. To his left was something resembling a kitchen and bar complete with a full array of startlingly vivid drinks. Directly in front of him was the cockpit, or what passed for one – and sitting in a red velvet armchair by the control panel was John.

"You know most people agree it's a bad idea to have liquids near electronics." It wasn't exactly the greeting he had normally used, but normal wasn't very high on the agenda right now.

John jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and turned to look at him.

"Ianto, you're up! Wonderful. I was going to come get you but I thought you'd find your own way. There's something's to eat in the fridge and I even bought a coffee machine - I hear you are very good at making it. As you said it's an unusual set up but I couldn't be bothered walking all the way to the dining room every time I wanted a drink."

"…Thanks." The flurry of words was quite unlike the John Ianto knew and had taken him off guard. "I'll make some coffee, would you like some? Black, two sugars, I remember from last night."

John grinned, impressed. "The brains and the beauty – I'd love some."

Ignoring that that was the same compliment John had used on Tosh the first time they met Ianto made his way into the kitchen.

The fridge was indeed full of food, including a bowl full of things closely resembling blue, jellied, tennis balls. Eventually he grabbed a couple of pieces of fruit – he should be safe with them – and, after finding and washing two mugs, he made some coffee. There didn't appear to be any milk so he made his black as well and tossed in a couple of sugars (or at least they looked like sugars) for luck. Carrying them over to the cockpit he handed one mug to John and sat in the second chair with his coffee and fruit.

"I was thinking-" He started speaking but John cut in.

"Ianto, I was wondering…I don't think it would be the best idea for you to go back to your little team just yet. Give yourself time away from Jack, get him out of your heard, and well…there are some things I'd like to show you." He raised a suggestive eyebrow and Ianto snorted. "Alright then, maybe not that…at least not yet, but I would wondering, if you'd, well, if you'd like to see the time agency.

…

_End Note: For those of you also reading "Everybody Hurts" I shall try to update it tomorrow but I grantee nothing – life gets in the way. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and here's a hint - you just found out why John's being so evil….(I know you've all just realised the answer, drop us a review and confirm your guess)._


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Okay, the next three chapters or so shall all start with an A E Housman quote (from various poems) they do relate to the chapters so bare with me. This chapter is quite short and slightly confusing (it is needed I promise)…but you should be able to work out who is telling it as we go along (and if you can't it will eventually become clear, do not worry) as for what exactly they are talking about…well all will be revealed! Thank you to everyone who alerted or favourited and, as always, a special thank you to those who reviewed – they mean the world!_

_WARNING: Dark themes, mentions of torture and child murder (and possibly rape but only if you squint). _

…_._

_**Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry  
I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;  
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:  
Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.**_

Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,  
I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.  
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:  
Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.

"**BE STILL MY SOUL BE STILL" – A E HOUSMAN **

Blood was not something you ever got used to, in fact, over time you were able to tell it apart. Not just the different species' (although most had a similar basic formula) but different types. There was old blood, empty of oxygen, dull, smelling of salt and something deeper. There was fresh blood, bright crimson red, it's acrid metallic smell clinging to your skin and coating your tongue; and then there was dead blood. The kind that lay in stagnant pools, smelling of decaying flesh and swarming with millions of sand flies.

He'd seem a lot of blood during the war, too much, and it haunted him, he dreamed about it sometimes, clinging to his hands, arms, face – suffocating him. It was in those dreams he realised that there were two more types of blood; clean blood and dirty blood. Clean blood was the kind you made but hurting yourself, by punching someone in the face and breaking a nose; dirty blood was different. It was the type that only comes with violence, with murder, with torture and worse, it was the kind that stayed with you, the kind that had a past.

Some people went their whole lives without knowing dirty blood, those lives where easy. They had no dreams of faces, of thick rotting smells; they had no dreams of death. His life had never, could never have been like that, he would always have been tainted, but at least, at least he would have been spared the worst. He had been a soldier, he had tortured, wounded killed, he had held them down, he had murdered them; their blood would be with him forever but it wouldn't get inside his mind, drive him mad…no, only children's blood did that.

In his mind he could see every child, every pair of wide and frightened eyes, every spark that left them. He could hear their screams too, theirs and their parents, their families, feel the cold, indifferent mask plastered across his face as he tortured and killed them. They said he was heartless, that he didn't care – they praised him for it – and they were almost right…almost, but not quite. Because he did care, he cared so very much, but he'd learned to hide it, he'd had to, he hadn't had a choice.

They made him choose, them or him, them or him, the words beating deeper into his head. And eventually, just as they always knew he would he'd broken, he'd chosen them. Because he knew exactly what they did to be people who didn't…he knew because he'd done it.

_End Note: right, I'm sure you all understood every word of that, clear as day…no, sorry, it may seem completely random but it will become clear eventually. If there's any part you don't get tell me about it and I'll see if I can clarify without giving anything away. As always I love your reviews. ^.^ _


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: In celebration for finishing my play I have decided to post this chapter, I am sorry it took so long. Also, I have the feeling this story is running away from me and is not going to turn out quite how I envisaged…ah well, winners can't be chooses' – enjoy._

…

**The sound of fight is silent long,**

**That began the Ancient wrong**

**Long the voice of tears is still**

**That wept of old the endless ill**

**Here the truceless armies yet**

**Trampled, rolled in blood and sweat**

**They kill and kill and never die**

**And I think that each is 'I.**

**A E HOUSMAN, "The Welsh Marches"**

"Tosh! Owen! Here now!" Jack's voice rang across the Hub.

"I'm kinda busy now Jack. You could always, y'know, come over here." Owen yelled back, mumbling quietly "It wouldn't kill you." Nevertheless he made his way towards the hothouse, wiping the alien blood the cover his hands onto his – once white, now off grey – medic's tunic.

Tosh, Gwen and Jack already stood, pushed slightly too close together by a reluctance to touch the alien vines that surrounded them. Gwen looked worried, her eyes darting quickly between Jack and a point some twelve inches in from of him, apparently mid air. Jack's posture too said that something was wrong, although Tosh's eyes, magnified by her glasses seemed calm, if a little curious.

Jack didn't bother explaining what was going on, just pushed a small button on the side of his wrist-strap and waited. After a couple of seconds that all-too-familiar figure of Captain John Hart sprung into the air, and both Tosh and Owen grimaced. The figure squeaked and flung his arms about manically, glaring at Jack with unbidden ferocity. At first Owen thought he was having a fit, and grinned to himself, but as his movements slowed it became clear that the message had been on fast forward.

"…do exactly what I say. First you are going to change, wouldn't want that coat ruined would we? Besides it is kind of, well, distinctive and that is the last thing I need, next you're going get a, to be frank, totally illegal lift, on the "c" grade hospital cruiser that will pass over your quaint little city, in, say. Two hours. You got that? Good. After that you are going to follow the co-ordinates I have sent to your wrist-strap and go, nice and quietly, back to the Time Agency and have a good long chat. Because remember. It's you or him Jack, you or him."

The message stopped, flickered, once, twice – and then died. It seemed to Owen that John's voice had cracked ever so slightly on that last line but that, he decided, was just his imagination. He was curious though, who was this "he"? Jack didn't have another psychotic ex who used to work for the time-agecy, although to be honest it wouldn't have been a surprise. But that didn't make sense, it has to be someone they know…someone close to him now, someone –

"Teaboy!"

"Ianto!"

Tosh and Owen both yelled the name at the same time and Jack nodded, grim faced.

"He's got Ianto and if I don't hand myself in then John will give him to them…"

"Hang on." Gwen's voice pushed to the front. "Aren't the time-agency the good guys? Didn't you used to work for them?" She looked up at Jack, eyes begging him to tell her it was all going to be ok – he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Well Jack? Aren't they? Tell me!"

"I-I-I" Jack looked away, steadying his shoulders and taking a long, deep breath. "I can't remember."

"You WHAT?"

"I can't remember. When I left, before, well …I'm not really sure. They took some of my memories – ten years to be exact. Ten years of my life, just missing. I know things about them, what some looked like, the jargon, how we lived, some of my assignments…but whole chunks are missing. I also know what the Doctor tells me…I think John knows this; I think that's why they want me back. Not because I can't remember, but because of something…or possibly someone, I can't remember doing." He stopped running his hands through his fringe in a distracted, worried way.

"But you can't give yourself up." It was Tosh who spoke now, the voice of reason as ever. "They obviously have some hold over John and we've got to find out what it is, otherwise you're walking straight into a trap."

"Either that or Hart is completely mental…which figures."

"Yes thank you Owen for your pearls of wisdom, they're invaluable."

"Just saying…"

Well don't!" Jack snapped, starring at the Londoner and showing, quite clearly, the significant height between them.

"Tosh is right. We have to go about this logically, running in, guns blazing, helps nobody, least of all Ianto. We have to try and get hold of him, warn him what's happening. Then we work out how to get him out. "

…

Onboard "John's Ship" - as Ianto had dubiously dubbed it, unsure as he was of the legality of its ownership – the two men in question sat in the counsel room, talking. Up the stairs, through the kitchen, down the corridor and far, far out of earshot, Ianto's phone buzzed quietly, the screen lighting up with a single word: "Jack".


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: I know you're probably sick of hearing this but I am so, so sorry for the long wait. I have been away and in two weeks I am leaving London to go home to Sydney…it's a big move. As always thank you to my reviewers of whom I think there were two, maybe three (I know it sound stupid, but guys: it's hearing what people think of the story and knowing that they like it that makes me want to continue…*hint hint*) and a special thanks to jantolover16026 who gently suggested I might like to update sometime in the next hundred years – thanks, I think I needed it. Anyway, for you all, some (almost) mindless fluff: enjoy!_

…

**Here dead we lie**

**Because we did not choose**

**To live an shame the land **

**From which we spring**

**Life, to be sure**

**Is nothing much to loose**

**But young men think it is **

**And we were young**

**Here Dead We Lie (A E Housman)**

"-and this is the sauna, great for sex, especially with the amphibious species, speaking of which – we could stop my Ambiato on the way. They –"

Ianto zoned out. John has been talking almost non-stop since he's agreed to visit the time agency and it was starting to remind him of home. There had always been someone talking - Owen's arguing, Gwen's well meaning advice, Tosh's technobabble – that was why he had loved it when it was just him and Jack. They hadn't needed to talk, they hadn't wanted to talk; actions spoke more than words…didn't they?

"Ianto? Ianto? IANTO!"

"Wha – I…hi."

"Are you listening to anything I said? "

"Yeah, of course, you erm…the spa, I mean sauna, good for sex, Ambiato…No I haven't. Sorry."

John's eyes fell to the ground.

"Don't you want to hear? If you didn't want me to show you 'round you could've just said – I wouldn't have pushed." He looked embarrassed and slightly hurt, not expression Ianto was used to seeing on the confident face.

"No! It's not that, it's just, well…me and Jack, we didn't, well, we didn't talk."

"You didn't talk? At all?" John's voice was incredulous. "Not even during sex? Jeez, when I knew him you couldn't shut him up – times have changed."

"Well, not proper talking, just well…stuff, compliments and that." Under his hair Ianto's ears turned bright red.

"So he didn't tell you anything about his past, about the places he's seen and the things he'd done? He didn't even ask about you?"

Ianto paused. "He did once, after, well, after he found out about my girlfriend."

"Found out you had one?"

"No. Found out she was a half-converted cyberwoman that I had hidden in The Hub."

"Oh. Sorry, I- I didn't know."

"Of course, everyone is always sorry." There was bitterness in his voice.

"Did he kill her?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

John put his hand on Ianto's shoulder and they stood for a few minutes, each lost in his own world. Then Ianto spoke.

"We tried talking after that, but, it – our relationship – it wasn't like that, it didn't work. It's easier to talk to you. You make it easier." He dipped his eyes not wanting to meet John's gaze.

"Then talk to me now Ianto" John placed a finger under the younger man's chin and lifted Ianto's face towards him. "Talk to me, tell me all the things you've never been able to tell Jack."

Ianto shook his head, trying to move out of John's grip. "I – I can't. It…I just can't."

"Why not? Because you haven't before? How far do you think any of us would get if we didn't try something new once in a while. Try, just try Ianto – I won't laugh, I won't question, I'll just listen. That's all."

"Really?"

"Really."

So Ianto talked.

He told John about his sister and his father who had died years ago. He told him how his mother had died when Ianto was eight and how his father had turned to drink. How he'd used school to try and hide from the real world and how he had, unsurprisingly to everyone but him, topped his year and been accepted to read English at Oxford. He talked and John listened. He said how Torchwood and come along, how they had offered him a job. They had said it was a "top-secret government organization" and he had gone with them in a blink. Unthinking and unquestioning.

Then he paused.

Be now the two men were sitting side by side on the sauna floor, resting their backs against the ships curved walls. Tentatively, unsure of how it would be received, John looped his arm around Ianto's shoulders. There was a moment when he was sure the young Welshman was going to pull away but then, slowly, he relaxed into the captains embrace.

"I sometimes wonder how different my life would have been if I'd just gone to Oxford. I could be a well known author, or a starving one. I could be teaching or studying. Hell! - I could be a professor. Can you imagine me as a professor?" Ianto laughed. A short, harsh sound that ended almost before it had begun.

Silence descended again and John watched the tiny movements of Ianto's chest as he breathed in and out. Unselfconsciously he lifted his hand and ran his fingers through the young man's hair. Everything about him seemed slightly surreal, as if time on the ship was running at a slower pace than everywhere else. He was just about to reach down and stroke Ianto's cheek when the Welshman spoke.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For listening, for sitting here and holding me; for not expecting anything more. Jack could never do that. You know when I first met you I thought you were a monster, that you'd trade your own mother for money or power, now I realise you're not like that. God it sounds clichéd, but you're a better person than that. So thank you…for everything." Blue eyes stared directly into his and a small sad smile played across the older man's face.

"You're welcome." He paused and looked away, feeling his chest contract with something almost unknown – guilt, guilt and, even deeper down, fear.

That's the problem with pretending. Sometimes the lies become reality and that's when everything becomes complicated.

…

_End Note: And that is all for another update. I think I know what is going to happen next but no guarantees. Hope you enjoyed – until next time. X _


	9. Chapter 9

_A.N: Look I know this isn't much, in fact it is almost nothing in comparison to the wait I have given you but I promise I am working on a new chapter and it should be up soon in the mean time, ponder this and I am so sorry for the wait._

_..._

John stood in the control room staring at the wall, as he had been standing in the control room staring at the wall for the past two hours – something had to give. His knees did. The sudden drop jolted him out of his daze and he shook his head, once, twice, three times.

"Stupid, stupid, idiotic, brain-dead, moron! You stupid, STUPID MAN!" He kicked the floor, it didn't help. "Maybe if you started thinking with your brain rather than your dick and your wallet you wouldn't be here. Huh! Ever think of that?"

He was angry – really angry, with Jack, with Ianto, with the Time Agency and with his heart his fickle, treacherous heart. When did acting stop being lies and become reality, when did you know you'd gone too far? That was the problem wasn't it – you never knew you'd crossed the line, until you stood on the other side looking back.

He breathed deeply, focusing on the air as it entered and left his body; in and out, in and out, at least that never changed. He'd spent so long looking for nothing and no-one beyond money in his pocket and a quick shag that he'd forgotten what being with another person felt like. He wouldn't admit that he'd forgotten what love felt like, but he'd forgotten smiles, he'd forgotten friendship. After all those years it had taken a young human man, a Welshman at that, to remind him of what life- a full life- really meant.

"Damn you Ianto Jones, damn you to hell."

He rose then, and rubbing an arm surreptitiously across his itching eyes, he glanced at the monitor in the middle of the console, at its small red light flickering like a heartbeat and at the sleeping figure of the a beautiful young man reflected on its opaque surface. If only there were a way to turn back the clock, to undo what had been done, to start again. But there wasn't...

'Oh' said the voice deep inside his head, 'but there was.' After all, he wasn't a time-agent for nothing. However nothing was ever gained without something equally valuable being lost – balance must be kept. 'Keep Ianto' the voice said 'and you lose Him. Keep Him and you lose Ianto.'


End file.
